


Persephone in the Spring

by LadyHawk42



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But assume the usual suspects will appear, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, F/M, M/M, No Beta, Obviously more characters but these are the core I’ll add as needed, Torture, ill add gages as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2019-10-28 21:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17795219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyHawk42/pseuds/LadyHawk42
Summary: You may have heard the tale of Hades and Persephone, how he could love no other and stole her way. But the often forgotten character in the story was her mother, who’s grief was so great it threatened to destroy the world.Lily Potter loved her son, and when given the choice decided to turn her back on the world to save him. In the clutches of the Dark Lord she must navigate a deadly new world, keep her son safe and at her side and keep herself alive all while watching the growing connection between her son and a monster.





	1. Banshees calling your name

**Author's Note:**

> No beta, mistakes are my own. All chapter titles are taken from songs that I feel have similar tone and or message as the chapter content.
> 
> This is going to be Harrymort, but it’s going to take along ass time. I am going to do my best to make sure this doesn’t come off as grooming as Harry and Voldemort/Tom do interact while Harry is a child/adolescent/teen

May 16, 1981

He was a light sleeper.

Never used to be, sleeping in a dorm with three other boys for seven years meant he slept through most things, but these days every little creek and sigh seemed to wake him. Tonight was no different, James woke to the shuddering breath of his wife as she slipped from the bed, the fluttering sigh of fabric as she pulled on her robe. He only saw her red hair as she left the room by the time he opened his eyes.

Lily slept just as lightly maybe even lighter, it wasn't the noises of an old house that kept her up she knew. It was the endless noise of fear she had in her head and heart that grew louder with the setting sun. James's fears were loudest during the day every person he saw an enemy, every animal a disguise and every bird a spy. For Lily it was more like she was a child again afraid of the dark.

Slipping on his own robe he followed her. She was exactly where he knew she'd be, sitting on the floor chin on her knees watching Harry sleep in his crib. Harry had not inherited his parents sleeplessness and was happy to be in his crib as long as you'd let him and sleep all day. He was a good baby, generally happy, would eat anything and was friendly with the few people who came to the house.

James settled beside Lily, waited for her to find words for the chaos in her heart. He watched a Harry's fingers twitches and his leg gave a little kick as he dreamt.

"How can he sleep so peacefully when I feel like we're in the slowly closing jaws of the big bad wolf?" Lily's soft voice came just as Harry wrinkled his little noise and gave his head a little shake. "I feel like my fears are all I can breath there clawing at my throat tills it's all I can think about and he's just sleeping."

James looked at her, her hair falling covering her face, he tucked it back behind her ear. "I didn't know I married a poet."

The smile that came to his lips couldn't be helped when she swatted his arm and huffed at him. "Don't tease I'm being serious." She was serious too as she said it but a hint of a smile peaked on the edge of her lips

Grabbing her hand he gave it a kiss and held it to his cheek, "I know," couldn't keep his own smile away though "you can wax your poetry to me any time babe." 

Lily was smiling now too as she looked away from their sleeping son. "I love you." She kissed him as he said it back. "But I don't know what to do. Everyday he gets closer to us, I can feel it."

Entwining their fingers she lead against his body, her other hand gripping the bars of Harry's crib. James could only think of what they must look like to someone who was ignorant of their situation, they must look like a couple of teenagers overwhelmed with pretending to be adults. Married with a kid by 20, he hadn't planned on that but they were in love and there was a war so little things like age didn't seem so important.

Now with the worst dark lord in centuries hunting for them he wished he was older.

"You know I wanted to take a trip after graduation." Lily 'hmmed' on his shoulder watching Harry sleep. "I wanted everyone to come and we'd go to Asia or South America, a whirlwind adventure before coming back to start our real grown up lives. But then the fighting got worse and they put travel bans on dark creatures and I wouldn't want to go without Remus." 

Lily nodded urging him on, "So instead I joined the Aurors right out of school, you started apprenticing at St Mungo's. Getting married seemed like the perfect thing to do, and have a baby," 

"The most perfect baby." Lily interrupted with, he agreed.

"Yes the most perfect baby." It looked like Harry might have had as his little face scrunched up before evening out. "I wish we'd been older, done more knew more cause now all I can think about is what I want to do instead of the right thing what I'm supposed to do." He felt like he was just rambling now, was he rambling? Just incoherent thoughts about the thing that's been plaguing his mind for weeks.

"What are you supposed to do?" Lily's hand tightened on the bar like she'd been having the same thoughts, her voice a whisper losing the humour it had when he was joking around. They hadn't talked about this though he was sure she thought of it as much as he did. 

What were they supposed to do both as citizens of this world and parents of a child with a honest to god prophesied destiny? 

"I'm supposed to fight corruption and discrimination and evil wherever I find it," he couldn't help the small smile that came to his lips "and I do want to do those things don't get me wrong. I hate what is happening and I hate him but-" this was it make a choice show her you're a coward or stop talking and never talk about again. There wouldn't be a second chance.

"But?" She prompted, like she knew they stood before a precipice and she was ready to leap. But was he?

Guess so.

"But I want to run. Change our name and never come back." James couldn't look at her, he was supposed to be a Gryffindor not a coward. "I would turn my back on this whole war if it meant I could be with you and Harry."

"I want that too."

So simple a reply that he was crying before he'd realized that there were tears in in eyes, his head dipped down and he gripped her hand tight bringing hard against his chest. They sat silently while he cried for another moment before getting up and going back to bed.

They lay on their sides curled together, foreheads touching, his eyes started to droop. James felt Lily's eyelashes brush against his cheek.

"I want to tell him the whole prophecy." 

Her soft words sounded so loud in the stillness between them.

"Maybe he won't come if he knows it all. Knows it's self fulfilling, he won't want to kill Harry."

Looking at her he could see shame on her face, a proud and principled women brought low before the danger it her child.

He felt the same.

"I think about that too." If she was surprised she didn't show it, just closed her eyes and brought her hand up her pinky finger sticking out.

"Pinky promise."

He couldn't help his smile. Sometimes you had to be childish in the face of soul crushing fear. James curled his pinky around hers. 

"Harry first, burn the world."


	2. They call me baby driver

August 1, 1981

He could barely stay on.

Lily couldn't understand why James thought getting a 'toddler broom' was a good idea. Harry could barely hold himself on it without falling. It couldn't be safe she was sure, even if it could only hover a foot off the ground and the cat was faster (a cat that had yet to come out of hiding after the first time she had been chased by the toddler broom). Harry's peals of laughter could be heard upstairs as Lily straightened up the nursery, James cheering him on calling out imaginary quidditch plays. 

Well maybe it could stay if he had so much fun on it. They needed fun. Trapped in this house waiting for the devil to knock on their door took more from them every slow creeping day. Putting aside their fears and suspicions for a day had been easy, pretending like they were a normal family for Harry's birthday had been everything.

Having people in the house had made her feel so light. Talking and catching up, gossiping about people she didn't even know, it had felt like old times. She snorted picking a shirt off the floor, only 21 and she already had "old times". But it was good, Harry had loved having people fawn over him and of course he loved having his Paw-oo and Munie come over. Peter hadn't been able to attend and Remus and fallen asleep on the couch before lunch had ended but it was good to see people. Lily loved her husband and son but it was so isolating here.

She was bored of tidying, sounded like fun down stairs. She dropped a toy on the dresser and headed down the stairs only just jumping out of the way to avoid Harry coming by on his broom and James following behind. Her husband was red faced and smiling, sweat on his forehead and he'd shed the sweater he was wearing earlier.

"Watch it now! They'll be a pile up the way you're driving!" James was breathless with laughter..

"Still think it was a good idea?" Lily called after him. Harry was doing circles in the living room now, she moved to the closet to get the camera out. They'd taken lots of pictures yesterday but some of just them would be nice too.

"Of course it was a good idea! Never too young for quidditch!" His head popped around the corner "And you just know those pure blood brats will start riding now! We can't let him fall behind!"

She just rolled her eyes putting the strap of the camera around her neck. "You do remember that you're a pureblood right?" She asked giving him her 'you're an idiot' look.

"Yes." He only smiled more. "And I'm a brat." He ducked back into the living room.

She couldn't really argue with that.

She hid behind a side table crouching to take some pictures of her boys then spelled the camera to take them on its own. Lily waited for him to come around the jumped out yelling Boo!

Harry almost fell off the broom shrieking in delight. He circled around her twice then between James open legs. He flew right into the couch flipping over onto it then rolling to the floor, Harry was back on the broom before either of them could move to help.

James just looked at her with a smug grin "He's a natural." He moved over to the record player shuffling through their collection. Finding what he was looking for he put the record on, lightly placing the needle. Drums introduced electric guitar and the familiar song made her smile.

James swayed toward her, grabbing her hand and around the middle pulling her close. They moved to the music and Lily placed her hand on James shoulder, the voice on the record leading them into a familiar dance. Harry flew around them not a care in the world. 

She had felt guilty yesterday after the party. Like wanting her son to have a normal first birthday was somehow bad, she'd thought about how any of their guests could have been a spy here to do harm! Paranoia had become commonplace in their house and lives.

James spun her around and Harry laughed as he flew. She heard the disgruntled yowl of Bianca as she finally came back down stairs and settled on the back of the couch watching them with thinly veiled disgust and the soft click of the camera as it continued to take pictures. The song ended and the next started Lily scooped up Harry as he passed, leaning into James they danced together.

"Well Quidditch Star we'll have to see about a little snitch for you then."

"What not a quaffle? Chasers see more action you know." He almost sounded offended.

"Maybe but seekers are the important ones." She said it more to see him pout then anything.

Moving through the living room with her son and husband, dancing and laughing made all Lily's worries melt away.

It really was a wonderful world.


	3. What a wonderful world

October 31, 1981

This was the best Halloween ever.

This years Halloween was better then last if only a smidgen. Harry's lion costume was so cute and he'd been chasing the cat all around the house for most of the day. Last years bumblebee had been adorable but Harry had been an infant then just happy to be coo'd at. This year he'd been roaring at her and James when he wasn't terrorizing Bianca.

Harry tried to pick her up and pull he to the couch but the white cats plump body just sagged with her dead weight as she let him manhandle her. Lily grabbed a hold of both of them and put the on the couch quickly snapping a picture before Bianca could run away.

"Bowna!" Harry reached after her sliding to the floor ready to pick up the chase again.

"Oh no you don't mister!" Lily put him right back on the couch. "Time to put this little lion to bed." Harry shook his head, his mane swishing and he growled at her showing his 'claws'. "Yup all done for today my love."

James leaned against the doorway drying off his wet hands watching her pull the costume off and scourgifying the face paint off. Harry protested between his yawns pushing at her hands and growling, by the time she got him into his sleep clothes his eyes were barely open.

"You're no help you know." She said placing him on her hip and walking to stand with her husband. 

"You looked like you had that well in hand, I wouldn't want to interrupt." His smile was soft and sleepy, she could see a bit of the face paint on his cheek still there from the morning and rubbed at it with her thumb only to smearing it more.

"Sorry." She laughed.

The gate crashed.

They both looked to the front of the house frozen. No breath between them her arms tightening around her son. 

The screech of the wards only lasted a moment before being silenced but Lily felt deafened, she barely registered James pushing her to the stairs telling her to run. She couldn’t hear anything over the sound of her own heart. She tried to apparate but could feel the anti-apperation wards fall around her.

She was at Harry's door before her brain kicked in.

"Harry first, burn the world."

They'd planned for this. Stolen words in stolen moments that had never been spoken again. But it had been a plan. "James!" Before she could take another step she heard something heavy drop to the ground. With no sound in the house it almost echoed, Harry's shuddering breaths sounded harsh in her ear. She heard softly spoken words drift up the stairs and the shuffle of cloth as their doom moved around what she knew was her dead husband.

What was she going to do? She couldn't do this alone. She needed to restart today do it over. Restart do it over restart do it over restart do it over.

The creak of the first stair.

What to do with the wolf in the house and no brick between?

"I didn't know I married a poet." 

Harry first, burn the world.

His little fingers dig into her shoulders, looking at her tired and confused boy she made a choice. A pinky swear at 3:18 in the morning with the love of her life. She walked to the top of the stairs.

Lily was shaking standing there looking down at him, he was only just stepping on the third step even if it had felt like it took her an hour to move. She could only see part of his face under the dark hood, his mouth slightly open in what she assumed must be what surprise looked like on him. They stared at each other for a moment then his pale hand lifted to his hood and pushed it back.

She didn't know what she expected, he was a hulking shadow in her nightmares formless and faceless. The handsome face of a man in his forties wasn't it she was sure but supposed it should have been, purebloods were known for their vanities.

"Come to beg?"

His voice was soft and so cold she shivered. 

"I will spare you if you stand aside girl."

She felt so young in front of him, so meager. She could see James body behind him. A small hand on her face made Lily realize she was crying, when had that happened? She looked away from the villain and down at Harry's sleepy unknowing face.

"I'll tell you the prophecy. All of it."

Lily looked back at him hearing his sharp intake of breath.

"Do you think that will make a difference?" A raised eyebrow made him look so human but he simply couldn't be.

"I do."

Whether it was her offer or the simple way she said it he took a step down the stairs as if to give her space. She felt shaky unsteady. Lily Potter lowered and sat on the top step still clutching her son, the Dark Lord Voldemort stood at the bottom. 

He was so tall he looked her in the eye from their spots.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the dark lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives, the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord is born as the seventh month dies."

He said nothing. Lily thought about repeating it but decided against it. Harry's head lulled against her chest, he was completely oblivious to the atmosphere around him.

"It means nothing." Voldemort dismissed her, "I will simply kill him here and now and there will be no marking no equal no special power."

"And if you fail?" She was bold, she was brave, she was Gryffindor. "This meeting was foretold, this prophecy is self fulfilling. If you strike and fail you will create your own doom." 

God she was starting to sound like a bad poet.

He seemed to be considering her words though so she pushed on.

"We'll leave and never come back. You'll never see us again." His eyes were intense his face giving away none of his thoughts. "I don't care about this war I only care about Harry."

"You can not guarantee he will not return." He put up a hand to stop her from interrupting. "I have killed his father and revenge is a powerful motivator. I will not have a enemy in the wind." 

He turned to regard the body behind him. “If I spare him, you will do as I command. You will never again see or speak with those you once knew. You will give yourself to my infinite mercy.” she tried to insist that they could just leave, “I will not offer this again.” 

"If you wish to protect you son you have five minutes to collect your things." He ascended the stairs taking Harry from her arms before she could react. "Go now or I will leave without you." 

She scrambled for her wand spelling things into the trunk in her closet. Harry's whole room was shrunken down, her and James room no time to sort through. The whole house was floating and shrinking down into the trunk as she quickly moved from room to room grabbing Bianca in the kitchen and Harry's toddler broom from the closet. His Halloween costume was still warm from being worn even though that blissful time seems so long ago now. She was finished her spells in three minutes and out of breath, the last of their belongings flying up the stairs. 

She went to James's side and knelt to kiss his lips one last time.

"I'll take care of Harry." She kissed his forehead closing his eyes. "I won't let anything happen to him." Her tears, hadn't she stopped crying yet, were dropping on his face making it look like he was crying too.

She looked up at the terrifying figure at the top of the stairs and was struck through with fear. The last of their belongings flew up the stairs and into the waiting trunk behind him but Voldemort didn't notice them he was staring at her son. He was completely engrossed in him that she could have cursed him. His unwavering attention had been like a physical pressure when she made her plea but it was so much worse directed at Harry. Only to make it worse was Harry was awake and staring right back just as intensely. She could almost see the touch of destiny about them.

They were all broken from their trances when the trunk snapped shut, it sounded like a gunshot in the stillness between them. If the Dark Lord felt embarrassed by being caught staring at infant he certainly didn't look it he simply looked at her expectantly waving a hand over the trunk making it disappear into his robes. She hurried up the stairs and put a hand on his arm when he offered it. With one last look at her husband they were whisked away.

This was the worst day of her life.


	4. I have secrets I won’t share

October 31, 1981

The door was ajar.

There were layers of wards all over Godric's Hollow, meant to stop and slow down anyone who would come to the Potters aid when the wards were breached. Severus had seen several people on his own way through and they were just the ones uncloaked. He was the first through and by his count the Dark Lord had already had several uninterrupted minutes with Lily.

He rushed in calling out for her, but the house was silent. His heavy breathing and foot steps filled his ears the only sound in the dead vacuum around him. The living room was empty, no furniture or pictures or anything just divets in the carpet where a couch and tables had once been and empty nails on the walls.

He felt some shame stepping over James Potter’s body. For years he had wanted to kill the boy then the man and would have done so if given the chance, but this wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want the man Lily loved martyred in her eyes, and how pathetic was that?

The upstairs was empty of things and people and bodies as the downstairs had been. Severus didn't know if that should be a relief or not. Maybe she had escaped with their belongings and the boy? There didn't seem to be any other explanation.

But there was no time to investigate further. Someone else had made it through the wards and was running up the walkway to the front door. Severus disapparated through his own hole to Hogsmeade. Running to the Hogs Head he barely looked at Aberforth before flooing directly to the Headmasters office.

"Severus what did you find?!" Albus rounded his large desk, Fawkes cooed in sorrow from his perch.

"James Potter is dead the rest of the cottage is empty." He fell into one of the massive plush chairs in front of Albus's desk trying to catch his breath. He cut off Albus question with a sharp hand in the air. "The entire place has been cleaned out, Lily and the child are gone."

"Gone?! Gone where!?" There was no twinkle in the elder man's eye this time, so he hadn't been a part of any escape plan. No doubt Albus believed the Fidelius charm would be enough, that Black would never betray his best friend.

And like the devil the fireplace filled with flames and Sirius Black stumbled out.

"Albus! Albus! He found them! James is dead and-"

Severus was out of the chair with his hands in Blacks robes slamming him into the wall before Black had even realized he was there. "You bastard! How could you betray them?! He was your best friend!" he slammed him again, Blacks head hitting the stone wall loudly. His hands gripped at Severus’s wrists but didn't try to pull them away. 

Tears freely fell down Blacks face and his nose was a mess. Even though he’d hated the man as long as he'd known him Severus knew Black was handsome, but right now his grief made him ugly.

“It wasn't me but it's all my fault!” Severus was sure his grip on the others collar was the only thing keeping him on his feet, pity. He let go and snarled in disgust.

“What do you mean it wasn't you?! YOU were their secret keeper!”

Black slid to the ground head in his hands.

“I too would like to know what you mean.” Albus’ usually calm voice was like steel, belaying the man who defeated Grindelwald that was usually hidden under the his unfortunate robe collection.

“It was Peter, we switched.” Black noisily wiped at his face with his sleeve all dignity gone. “Thought I was too obvious a choice and who would suspect that it was Peter.”

Albus walked over to his desk writing on a piece of parchment that burst into flames when he was done. “The Aurors know to look for Pettigrew, they should have made it to the cottage they can start their search in the area, or people as well. Now Sirius,” back was the kindly grandfather “do you know where Lily and James had planned to go if they were ever found?”

Black shook his head, useless. “James said they'd get in contact after, when they felt safe.”

“So Lily will have gone to ground then.” Albus brushed a hand down his robe straightening the creases and released the tension from his shoulders. “There is not much we can do until she is ready to reveal herself but best be diligent.”

He went back behind his desk, stroking Fawkes as he passed. “Severus returned to the Dark Lord. We must know if he has any lead on Harry's location.” Sitting back down was all the dismissal he needed to give, popping a lemon drop in his mouth.

Severus returned to the fireplace, gave Black one last disgusted look before flooing away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s short sorry I might put up the next chapter tomorrow to make up for it


	5. Mother listen to my heart

October 31, 1981

She thought it would be colder.

When Lily thought of the places the Dark Lord spent his time they were cold dank dungeons with manacles and screams coming from other rooms. Instead they apparated into a room warmed from the lit fireplace, the decor looked as beautiful as it did expensive. Harry started to fuss in Voldemort's arms never having apperated before. She let Bianca drop to the floor and made to grab him away but the man stepped away looking behind her.

“Take young mister Potter and their luggage to a room.” Lily spun around to see Rabastan Lestrange standing in the doorway. He quickly came across the room to take her son but she stopped him before he could grabbing onto his arm with both hands

“No! What are you doing? You can't take him!” She shouted turning Harry's fussing into crying, she reached for him again but Voldemort moved around her placing him into Lestrange’s arms. When he moved to leave Lily made to grab for him again but was stopped by Voldemort’s harsh hand pulling her easily back.

“You and I have much to discuss.” His eyes weren't cold anymore, there was a subtle fury in them controled like everything else about the man.

“Why can't Harry stay!?” She been so calm but this was too much! She couldn't watch a Death Eater walk away with her son, she struggled to get away. “What's left to discuss I’ll do whatever you want! Just give me back my son!”

Lestrange paid her no mind and did what his lord asked, the trunk floating behind him. Bianca considered her for a moment before jumping onto the trunk and settling in for the ride. When the door closed Voldemort finally let her go and she half stumbled half ran to the door. It was locked and she had no chance of breaking down the solid door. Lily turned to look back at Voldemort, he had settled into one of the plush chairs crossing his legs just watching her. He fit so well into the lavish room, handsome but terrifying.

“If it's unbreakable vow you want I'll do it.” She said from her spot at the door, she didn't want to sit and talk with this monster and she wasn't sure her legs were stable enough to move to a chair.

He snorted, very undignified she thought. “I've no doubt you'd be willing to die for your son girl. No what I require is a declaration of loyalty.”

“Loyalty? I will protect my son I won't teach him to hate you he'll never work against you. What more can I do to convince you he's not a threat?”

“The boys position here isn't in question. Only yours.” He finally looked away from her and stared into the fire, his wand in hand. She wasn't sure if it was meant to intimidate or not, he knew she was terrified already. “I could easily hand him off to one of my followers to raise. In fact it would be much simpler.” 

His grip on the wand tightened, he shook the tension off looking at her again. 

“No what I need is assurance that keeping you around is in my best interest.”

She willed her legs to move, she felt shaky all over. Adrenaline. Walking over to the chairs she sat opposite him, a low table with a chessboard between them. She felt like one of the pawns.

“What do you want?” She didn't have anything to bargain with, being a muggleborn meant she had no standing and little in the way of money. She he was completely at his mercy, what little he had. 

“You will take my mark.”

Lily was too shocked to say anything to that. The Dark Mark on a mudblood.

“The mark will allow me to summon you and know where you are, among other things.” He brushed imaginary lint from the front of his robes looking like he had asked her about the weather, completely unconcerned.

She couldn't refuse. There was nothing she could offer that he didn't already have. She could break a vow to get Harry to safety then die and a promise was less than useless. To be bound to this man till death was the only option, be marked and stay with her son or die right now.

She closed her eyes and nodded. He stood coming around the table and took a hold of her wrist.

Wait!

She pulled it back craning her neck to look up at him. “I have a condition.” He raised an eyebrow but must have been interested in what she had to say so she plowed on. “Peter Pettigrew.”

“Done.” He needed no explanation. She pulled her sleeve down wearily offering her arm, he took hold of her tightly placing the tip of his wand against her skin. “This will hurt. Morsmordre.”

It started like her arm was being stabbed over and over, worse than what she thought a real tattoo would feel like but it quickly became so much worse. She had heard someone say it was like a brand and burned into your skin. Lily was sure she was trying to pull away and there was a sudden sting in her knees that was barely noticeable through the overload of pain that filled all her senses. Her vision was more blurry spots than anything else and ears felt clogged but she thought she might be screaming. Her arm felt like it was burning but not hot- cold like frostbite. 

Lily wasn't sure how long it lasted for but when her senses settled back mostly to normal she was collapsed on the ground alone. She was covered in a sheen of sweat and there was blood in her mouth, her arm still hurt so much she was sure it was bleeding too.

She must have passed out for awhile, the next thing she knew she was being placed on a bed and her hair was gently brushed out of her face. Lily couldn't make out the face of the person though she was sure it wasn’t Voldemort. They moved away after a moment and she heard the click as a door was gently shut.

Laying on her back on the plush bed she waited for her mind to quiet. There was something she needed. She felt something move on the bed beside her, when she turned her head there was a shape that was crawling toward her becoming clearer and clearer.

“Mum mum.” Harry's sleepy voice cleared her mind. Her sweet boy. Lily gathered him into her arms breathing in his scent deeply. He was alive he was alive he was alive.

His body was the only warmth she could feel


	6. Now that you’re standing here, I must confess my sins

November 2, 1981

Sirius Black was drunk, had been for the past two days and would be for several more to come.

Everyone wanted to talk to him. Aurors want to know if he was lying, lawyers want to talk about a funeral and estates and the order just wanted to know what the hell was going on. But he didn’t want to talk to any of them, none of them deserved answers.

The only person he needed to talk to was Remus. He’d been on a mission, deep undercover he had said, would be gone for weeks sometimes a few months then pop in for few days looking worse every time. Tired and hurt was Remus’s constant reality but it had been so much worse this past year.

And Sirius like the goddamned bastard he is had suspected him of being a traitor. Never had he been so wrong in his life and never had the consequences been so steep. He asked Dumbledore to bring Remus in from his mission, he needed to be told what happened to James, but had been brushed off- the mission there too important to treat Remus with dignity and respect apparently. So he had to use the emergency system they had all put in place when they were 13 to reach out, now waiting for Remus to show up was spent drinking.

He would drink till Remus arrived and then he would stop, no wait then they’d drink together. He could stop drinking after, be a real person again after, after he told Remus.

Remus would hate him, he had forgiven Sirius for a lot over the years but this was unforgivable. He had killed their best friend, had good as done. There was nothing he could do to fix this, no one could bring back the dead, he didn’t deserve forgiveness and never had. Remus shouldn’t even come, telling him would only break his heart and hadn’t he broken it enough?

Sirius barely noticed when the door opened or his name called out. He was finishing off his latest bottle when it was gently taken from his hand and placed on the table. It took time to focus on the blurry figure in front of him, their hand came and touched his face.

“Sirius, what’s gotten into you? Did you really use our emergency line cause you on a bender?” The person pulled him from the couch and led him to the bathroom.

The tub was filled with hot water and he was stripped and sat inside. They ran a wet cloth over his back and he let himself be lulled by the warmth and comfort. The steam helped to clear his mind and the steady hand that washed him soothed his soul.

He had been in the tub for awhile when his mind cleared enough to recognize Remus as he stood to grab a towel. 

“James is dead.”

There was no way to make this easier no way to deliver this blow kindly.

The towel fell to the ground through Remus’s hands. His slow turn and wide eyes made Sirius feel sober, too sober for this too sober for life. He wanted to sink his head under the bath water and flow down the drain to the sewer where he belonged. 

Hands were on his face tilting his head so he was forced to look Remus in the eyes. He looked as if he was searching for something and whatever he found caused a shutter in his breath.

“Say it again.” Sirius tried to pull away, he didn’t want to say it again it was his fault he was saying it at all. But Remus wouldn’t let go and his eyes were filling with tears. “I won’t believe you unless you say it. So you have to, you have to say it again.”

Sirius took Remus’s hands into his, keeping them on his face, took a deep steadying breath and fought down the lump forming in his throat as tears came to his own eyes again. “James is dead.”

Tears fell down Remus’s face and he dropped his head, breathing fast and hoarse. “Lily and Harry?”

“Gone to ground, hopefully, no word yet.”

Remus pulled his hands back and slid his back down the side of the tub. As he turned away Sirius felt like he was shattering, this is where Remus would leave him, just walk away and never come back for this worthless mess of a person. They sat in silence, the water of the bath becoming cold around him. When Remus finally moved he grabbed the towel off the floor, wiped the tears from his face, then stood grabbing Sirius’s arm and pulling him up up and out of the tub. He was still silent as he wrapped Sirius in the towel, stepping back to let Sirius dry himself, Remus turned and left the bathroom but Sirius could hear him filling the kettle just down the hall.

He hadn’t left.

He was making tea.

Sirius was too tired to find clean clothes and get dressed instead grabbing the housecoat off the back of the door. It was warm and full, he’d stolen it from a Muggle hotel that he’d went to just because last year. Listening to Remus shuffle around while he pulled the housecoat tight really transported him back, they were happier but it was so long ago and now they could never go back.

Remus easily fit into the kitchen, he knew where everything was and moved from the cupboards to the kettle with his favourite mug. He took the filled cups to the table and sat waiting for Sirius. Or maybe not Sirius thought as he watched him, maybe he was simply going through the motions and was in shock. That would explain why he was still here, why he would stay in Sirius’s flat when this was all his fault.

His blood was pounding in his ears again.

How could he face Remus? Remus who was sweet and gentle and Sirius had betrayed him, thought the worst of him because of a man who turn out to truly be the rat he was. How would Remus be able to ever look at him without seeing the wretch he truly was?

“Sirius please sit down.”

Remus’s soft and gentle voice pulled him to the table, when he sat he could see that tears were trudging a path down his scared cheeks.

“Please explain it to me.” Remus kept his eyes on his mug of tea but he didn’t drink.

This was just the British way right? Something bad happens and you make a cup of tea. It’s supposed to be normal or something, like everything else in your life was fucked but there would always be tea or something like-

“Sirius I don’t care about why I made tea.” Remus’s voice was exasperated but fond, this felt more normal the tea. More their normal.

“Sorry I’m still a little drunk.” They both looked around the kitchen and into the living room and surveyed the bottles that littered every surface, the result of two day bender waiting for Remus to get his message. “Didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

And so Sirius told him. How they switched, how he had suspected him, what he knew of the attack, what he saw there, finding James, Dumbledore refusing to recall him, all the people who want to make plans and move on. Everything spilled out of him, an incoherent stream of devastation he was sure no one could understand, no one but Remus. He sat and listened, didn’t ask questions or bring him back from a fit of crying, just sat looking at his tea and listened.

Once he was finished he felt empty, like he’d been scooped out and laid bare on the table for Remus to judge. He didn’t though, Remus just sat and stared at his tea. It was cold. Sirius had said everything he could he had to wait for Remus to process, no one had called him patient before but he would wait. Sirius would look at Remus while Remus looked at his tea and wait, no matter how long.

The sun was starting to stream through the window when Remus finally moved, rubbing a hand down his face.

“This is my fault.” His voice was small and sad, “I should have pushed.” 

“What are you talking about” Sirius’ reached his hand out and touched the hand still holding the tea cup before tentatively curling his fingers around Remus, “pushed what?”

He finally looked at Sirius and told him all the secrets he had kept from him.

Stunned Sirius left the table grabbing two glasses and an unopened bottle of fire whiskey, he pour generously in each and handed one to Remus before sitting down again. They sat in silence and drank then refilled and repeated.

This wasn’t really the time to be sober.


	7. Can’t be heard, coming in louder then words

November 3, 1981

James Potter's death was barely a footnote on the side of page six of the Prophet.

An act that had been the beginning of a profound decision that night for him was barely considered news to the rest of the wizarding world. He put the paper down disgusted. Potter may have been a blood traitor but he had still been a pureblood of high standing, the gossip mongers at the paper were more interested in scandal then reporting about a war. 

Looking out the window of his office in Malfoy manor the Dark Lord Voldemort pressed a hand to the gaping wound in his chest, trying to rub away the figment of his mind that had plagued him these long three days. He could feel them both like hooks that pulled on his tattered soul. Bring the Longbottom boy here had only made it worse, necessary, but it pulled his attention in two directions and neither of them where his attention needed to be. He’d been in this agony since the moment he touched Harry Potter, the moment he held him in his arms an undeniable connection had bloomed between them.

He should have killed the boy damn the consequences, but no the mother had been right, the risks were too great. The prophecy had been a damaging distraction, his obsession coufld have been his downfall. It still could destroy him, in more ways than one. If he had disregarded it entirely he wouldn’t have opened himself up to this new and unknown danger and his followers wouldn’t have questioned his sanity. His quest for the child had put all other plans and ambitions on hold and had made his less devoted followers begin to question him. But he had been blinded by his single mindedness to the point one might think the prophecy was brought to him deliberately.

Severus Snape entered his office coming to stand behind him, waiting to be acknowledged. Voldemort made him wait, the boy had been requesting an audience since Halloween, no doubt wanting to learn about what had come of the women he loved. The Prophet had simple stated that the mother and son's whereabouts were unknown in their blip on James Potter's death. He imagined it was eating Snape alive not know.

“You wished to speak with me.” He stayed staring out at the lavish grounds as they fell into shadow with the setting sun.

“I wanted to know how I can be of service to you, my Lord.” This boy's quiet confidence had always impressed him, there wasn’t kinship but he did acknowledge that they had had similar trails through their lives. Snape's confidence was born not of money or blood stasis but of his undeniable skills in both potions and the mind arts. He had earned all he had himself, no hand outs. But they both knew why he was really here.

“I do have a task for you.” Leaving the window and walking back to his desk he grabbed a roll of parchment handing it to Snape. “I need you to look into this for me. I’d do it myself but It’s time to refocus and I have a revolution to plan.” 

He could see it in this boy who was usually so composed how much he wanted to ask for the information he desired, could see when he came to a decision.

“Will you not also look for the boy and mother? Their escape was unexpected.” Bold.

“They didn’t escape.” Watching Snape wrestle with himself was amusing but it was beginning to bore him.

“My Lord?” He couldn’t hide the horror that crossed his eyes quick enough.

“The boy and his mother didn’t escape. They’re here in Malfoy manor.” So much passed over Snape's face relief, fear, confusion. To watch him squirm or release him? “Mrs. Potter gave me some interesting information and so I have taken them and the Longbottom family into my custody.”

“She’s here now!?” Snape's voice raised slightly in pitch, he took a breath to compose himself and bowed his head “May I see her?”

“Currently I have limited all contact to their guard and myself while more suitable arrangements are made.” Voldemort poured himself a glass of wine from the mantle, swirling the red liquid before taking a drink. Moving the children as far away as he could while still keeping them under his control was currently his most pressing task, even just knowing they were so close was agony. The unplotted pieces of land hadn’t been cheap or easy to acquire, his need for more secrecy had burned a bridge and a man but would be ready in only a few days. He could last till then.

Taking a deep drink of wine he regarded Snape again, enough with games he couldn’t think enough to play them tonight. “You asked me to spare Lily Potter and while I am glad that I was able to fulfill your request I did not do it for you. I must know that they are secured before I can allow any freedoms.” He walked back to his desk sitting down and looking at some parchment. “Also I doubt she’d be up for visitors. Her husband just died and she had the very painful experience of taking my mark so I imagine she’s not in much of a chatting mood.”

“She took the mark! But she! She’s a a!” Snape's sputtering was cut short as perhaps he remembered his place, these young ones were so easily swayed by their feelings so obsessed with each other. “Of course I understand my Lord, I will leave you to your work then.”

When the door shut behind his retreating back Voldemort sagged in his chair, a flick of his fingers dousing the light in the room and as the last of the setting sun disappeared behind the tree line his office was cast into darkness. Was this worse? No distractions from the gnawing in his chest from the cold in his limbs, but he could concentrate on nothing could barely see for the pounding behind his eyes. The wine didn’t help but he downed the glass.

When he’d felt an electric shock go through him upon seeing the Potter boy he thought it was the thrill before the kill, but touching him had made his whole body feel frozen compared to the warmth of where they were connected. The child had looked just as entranced with him, his green eyes staring up into the face of the man who came to kill him, who killed his father and who could still kill him and his mother. Had he been as affected, had the Longbottom boy been? Connecting with him hadn’t been as sudden but he felt the same heat in his body that had yet to find warmth since he parted from them. Did they feel this- this thing as he did?

They certainly weren’t in the pain he was, a bloody wound in the very core of his being. Could this be the tattered remains of his soul that cried out for— for something in these children? Some shared destiny or potential that with the state of his soul he could feel more profoundly? Or because he’d performed even any type of soul magic? 

This would be the one distraction he allowed himself as he set about ruling the wizarding world, research into this connection. He could not allow himself to interact with them again for he was sure he would lose all focus. The wine glass was smashing against the wall before he’d even registered the thought to do it. Voldemort was not a man who denied himself, but neither was he a man of feeling. He was sure that all he needed was some distance.

James Potter’s picture mocked him from the desk, such a meaningless act in the grand scheme of his deeds.


	8. Ain’t quite dead I just am lifeless

November 9, 1981

She couldn’t get out of bed.

Lily hadn’t moved from the bed for days, ‘cept the few times she’d had to relieve herself. She could hear Harry playing on the floor by the bed but she couldn’t sit up. The first few days she had refused to let Harry move away from her but his fussing had gotten to much for her fuzzy mind to handle and her arms became numb and useless as he crawled away and off the bed. Sometimes Bianca laid with her when she grew tired of Harry’s hands grabbing at her and if she woke in the night Harry was alway back in the bed. She assumed the house elves were doing quite a bit for them, taking on the role of caretaker while she laid miserable in the bed. 

Not even shame could breach the fog in her head. And she may be starting to smell.

Bianca jumped onto the bed and seemed to consider curling into her chest before stepping over the newspaper that laid on the bed and jumping on to the beds headboard and settling in there. The paper had appeared a few days ago, it was a taunt she was sure, no others had come. The article on James couldn’t even be called that it was less than a side note, the most devastating night of her life was a side note.

They'd been isolated in the house but James had been a auror and she had had an apprenticeship at St. Mungo's, they'd had friends and been well respected considering their age and her blood status. How could James's death be treated so flippantly. Was no one upset? Enraged? Wondering what had happened to his wife and child, didn’t they matter?

Was she even enraged? It bothered her but mostly she was upset that she wasn’t upset. Everything was starting to become so… bland in her mind, was she even sad anymore? She should being feeling more than this. Anger sadness shame fear, but mostly she was just numb.

Never a good sign.

She had only worked there a short time but had seen cases of patients at St. Mungos that couldn’t handle their trauma and stated to have mental issues. This was depression.

Maybe.

Probably.

She’d never had issues with depression before so maybe it was just situational depression and it would go away. Go away when she moved on.

When she got out of the bed. 

If she got out of bed.

Harry’s little hands gripped the edge of the bed as he pulled himself onto his feet, only his eyes showed. He gazed at her but made no sound, she should be worried she knew, beside the occasional ‘mum’ Harry was almost completely silent. His hands patted at the bed before he slipped back down to the floor. He was rolling something with wheels it sounded like, though if she moved she would be able to see.

Move.

Move to the edge of the bed and look at your son damnit.

Lily rolled over and burned her face in the pillow.

When she woke up next the sun was no longer streaming through the curtains and the room was instead lit with the glow of candles. There was a tray of food sitting next to her on the bed but she ignored it rolling onto her back and staring at the sealing.

A wave of pain crawled up her arm, it spread up her shoulder and Lily felt it sharp in her ear before it hit her spine and traveled throughout her whole body. There was nothing she could do but ride it out clenching her teeth so hard she thought they might shatter. It could have been hours or minutes before the pain slowly faded back to her forearm, but there could be no relief. The mark hurt constantly and if she paid it too much thought the pain would enter her mind like a thousand knives. All that was left was her loss.

The sweat on Lily's skin left her chilled in the bed, a bath would help but it was so far away. Her belly twisted painfully but eating was unbearable. There was nothing she could do but stay in bed and feel like she might die.

A soft knock on the door was so unexpected she bolted up in the bed, her heart in her throat. She felt frozen though she could see both Harry and Bianca move closer to the door. 

“Mrs. Potter I am entering the room.” The voice was male, slightly accented, deep and what she'd come to know as ‘cultured’. They waited a moment, perhaps for a response before opening the door and stepping in closing it behind them.

Rabastan Lestrange was tall and slim with an emotionless face that made him look more intimidating then he should. He didn't scowl or have a terrifying smile just a dead face. Anyone else may have been handsome but she'd heard to many tales and seen for herself the damage he could do.

And the last time Lily had seen him he was taking Harry away.

Lily tried to stand, the blanket tangled around her leg sent her sprawling to the floor. The sound sent Bianca scurrying under the bed hissing up a storm, Harry giggled and crawled over to her as she tried to free herself from the blanket. Lestrange must have been sickened by the sight, he took his wand from his robes and spelled the blankets back onto the bed setting it all proper. His hand on her arm was warm as he pulled her to her feet and his gentle manner left her without words for a moment.

The pain in her arm was back but she ignored it as she scooped up Harry holding him tightly to her chest. “What do you want?” Manners had all but flew out the window with all the sudden changes and depression that had left her bedridden.

Being on her feet seemed to satisfy Lestrange and he stepped away rubbing his fingers together, no doubt feeling the grim from her skin. A house elf appeared beside him, a scrawny dirty thing wearing a pillow case that was so out of place against the expensive lush decor of the room.

“I am here to collect you and your son Mrs. Potter.” He motioned to the elf who snapped his fingers and disappeared. “The elf has taken your things and will be waiting at your destination for you.”

“What? Where are you taking us?” The pain was moving into her shoulder and her fingers were starting to spasm from clenching Harry.

“An unplotted piece of land has been prepared to house you and your son. I will apperate you there and you will stay there till given permission otherwise. The elf will be staying with you and will continue to cater to you needs,” was that supposed to be a jab, either way it stung. “and you will have guards monitoring the property day and night. You will be quite safe there.”

If he was being sarcastic she couldn’t tell, but he was being honest at least it seemed.

“What did he tell you about us?”

Lestrange held out his arm to her waiting. “Nothing, only that you are to be kept under lock and key. No one in or out without his express permission.”

The pain was making her light headed. 

There wasn’t much choice, his manners were only a formality and she was sure they would disappear if she resisted. Lily took his arm tightly and buried her face in Harry’s soft wild hair. When she opened her eyes they were outside. The sun was bright and her eyes welled with tears as they adjusted, when they did she marveled at what she saw.

A small red brick house sat atop a hill, its slope lead down to what looked like a stream and the property was covered in trees, bushes and flowers. All in all it was not the dungeon she was expecting. Behind them was a wall covered in ivy that seemed to surround the whole of the land or at least what she could see, and a gate bracketed by two masked men.

Death Eaters.

Lestrange started to walk up the path to the house, the grip she still had on his arm pulling her along. The white door of the house opened as they walked up the porch steps. They stepped together over the threshold.

The inside was pleasant and simple. Nothing like the lavish decor of Malfoy Manor, it reminded Lily of her parents home, the colours plain and the large bay window filling the living room with soft light.

Harry squirmed to be let down and Bianca rubbed against her leg, she let go of Lestrange’s arm and placed Harry on his feet holding his hand instead. He pulled and started to whine, he wanted to explore but Lily wasn't ready to part and no doubt there was more to discuss. Bianca left them and headed down the hall hissing when an elf appeared in her path.

“The elf is Dovby, feel free to rename it. I believe you may be acquainted with it, it serviced you while at the Malfoy’s.” He looked at her like he was remembering the sorry state he found her in. “Or perhaps not, it will follow all your orders unless it goes against restrictions the Dark Lord has placed and of course it will contact no one for you or help you to leave.”

Lestrange easily avoided words that describe her ‘situation’ as he was like to call it, but she couldn't be sure if it was compassion or politics. It was easier for them if she was kept demure and weak willed. There was no righteous fury no indignation, she barely felt embarrassed. Her grief had numbed her to all but the pain that grew up her arm and throbbed where shoulder met neck.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” He was gone and as her mind clouded with pain and her knees gave out she couldn’t help but wonder if he had really been there.

“Is Mistress needing help? Dobby can help her to the bed.” The elf was at her side wringing its hands, Harry’s hand was still in her bruising grip. He was crying, Harry hardly ever cried he was a good baby.

Back when she was a good mother.

Lily let go of his hand. “Just take him to his room.” The elf nodded and lead Harry way, she watched them go and when they were gone she lowered the rest of her body to the ground and shook with the waves of pain that flowed through her body from her arm. The cool wooden floors her only relief as she sweated through her clothes, it’s hard planks unforgiving and uncomfortable were nothing less then she deserved.

At least she was out of bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t think harshly of Lily please she’s dealing with a lot
> 
> I’m so glad to see that some people are enjoying this story! Thank you everyone for your kudos comments and bookmarks!
> 
> Also it had occurred to me that maybe some people would be interested in what songs the chapter titles are from and maybe interested in why I choose them, yes no?
> 
> Well I’ll give you this chapters anyway and I’ll see if people are interested in more.
> 
> Oh my heart by Mother Mother   
> Basically about being in a shit situation but still mulling through but not really in a positive way.  
> Like she’s alive but at the moment Lily wishes she was dead kinda.


	9. The mums on the bus go shh shh shh

The day a bird sat on the windowsill 

Mumma was sick.

She was sick and Daddy was somewhere not here. Maybe at the other house? Why didn’t he come with the sad man? Even Bonwa came with the sad man.

But now Mumma had the sad sick. She didn’t smile or play or move, and she hardly ever talked.

Harry wished she would feel better, everything was very exciting and new but he wanted her to come with him to see. It had always been Mumma Harry and Daddy before, now no Daddy and Mumma was sad sick in bed. Only the wrinkle man was here but he didn’t play either and he didn’t make his toast right and he really need Mumma to be better right now.

Harry went to her room. The wrinkle man had put her upstairs but Harry’s bed was downstairs so he had to climb the stairs to get there. He was very brave, Daddy said it all the time, but he hadn’t ever gone up the stairs without someone at the bottom before so he had to be extra brave to see Mumma.

Maybe she was better now! She had been sad sick forever!

When he got to the door he could hear Mumma crying. Harry wanted to cry too, he was sad too, so sad he was sad sick too. He pushed open the door and walked to the bed. He couldn’t see Mumma but he could hear her in the big blankets, Bonwa lifted her big fluffy head and told him to go away, but Harry was on a mission and would not go away.

He gripped the sheets and pulled himself up, it was hard the bed was really high but Harry was very good at climbing and very brave so he didn’t give up. The bed was soft and smooth and it was hard to grip on, his hands were sweaty from gripping it but he did get his leg up then his butt just as Bonwa jumped down with a yowl and left Mumma’s bedroom.

Crawling on the bed he went to the blanket hill that Mumma’s sounds came from he lifted the edge and wiggled in till his hand touched Mumma. Her leg was all sweaty and prickly and she was shivering. He followed her leg till he found her tummy then face, her face was yuckie with sad sickness from her eyes and nose.

Harry patted her cheek, “Mum Mum.” I’m sad too Mumma, I miss Daddy and I miss you. He started to cry too when her arms came up around him, he didn’t cry lots but he was really sad now. Mumma pulled him to her chest and he rested his head on her breast, he put his hand inside the collar of her shirt and rested it there like he did when Mumma gave him milk.

His cry’s got louder and louder and so did Mumma’s, she tried talking too, telling him things but he couldn’t understand when he was so sad. 

It was hot and stuffy under the blankets while they cried but Harry just wanted to stay with Mumma and be sad. His eyes started to get heavy and his cry’s turned into hiccups as he pulled some of Mumma’s shirt into his mouth to suck on and drifted to sleep.

He dreamed of the sad man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s a short chapter, but with Harry being a baby his world is very small
> 
> This chapters title is pretty self explanatory, I choose it because Wheels on the Bus is probably something that would have been sung to him, and it has a bit about a baby and mum not too deep 
> 
> Also Harry of course doesn’t know/understand that James is dead and not coming back


	10. Painful to me, pierce right through me

November 17, 1981

He was going to be sick.

Standing soaked to the bone watching a child sleep through a window was in fact not what The Dark Lord Voldemort was meant to be doing right now. Many things were wrong in that moment. He was a wizard, there are a great many spells he could have used to keep himself dry and warm, he could have simply let himself into the cottage he had built for the Potters. There was countless ways he could approach the situation. Though nothing was as grievous as one thing.

That he had allowed this situation to come to pass at all.

He had poured himself into his work, refocused his scattered forces while he resecured his scattered mind. Voldemort had allowed himself to be pulled to the whim of his deranged former professor, his mind like a shattered mirror.

How had the fractured state of his mind eluded his notice for so long?

The Horcruxes were no doubt the cause, but it had been years since he had last made a horcrux. Looking back at reports had revealed that he had begun drifting into insanity about six years ago. What and who had caused it?

And perhaps more importantly what had snapped him back to himself?

That was what had brought him here.

Stand outside. In the rain. With no protection. Like a fool.

All theories lead here, lead to Harry Potter. It was after holding him that he had felt a change in himself. First the bitter cold and soul deep ache in his bones but what followed was shocking clarity. Somehow this boy had broken whatever curse was on him with only his presence.

What did it mean?

There were too many questions and not enough answers. He had tried to look more into the effects that the horcruxes had on his soul and what it could mean that he felt the boys souls or something close, but finding anything was proving to be as elusive as finding out about horcruxes in the first place. There was little surviving information on horcruxes or soul magic, destroyed in some purge of unseemly magics.

As if any of this mattered or was the real reason he was here.

It had been a very long time since he had wanted something and had to deny himself. He wanted to feel warm and whole, like he never had before. 

He had been denied everything as a child, warmth and love, and he had denied he wanted these things as he grew and people offered them. It had been true then or at least he believed it was, had believed it until this deep longing grew inside of him and clouded his judgment.

Voldemort had never desired love.

Of this he was sure.

He closed his eyes as he tried to recall any time he had felt this way but could bring no moment to mind. He had been a cold child, distant from both children and adults, had wanted only respect and fear from everyone. 

So why now? What had this child done to him?

He rested his head against the window, when his eyes opened he instantly took in the change in the room. Where was once a sleeping babe was now a wide awake babe standing in his crib.

Looking directly at the Dark Lord Voldemort. And making grabbing motions to him his arms raised.

The ache in his chest bloomed a new and he had started opening the window before he realized himself.

It was more then time to go.

Appariting away he found himself in front of a small… hut. It was decorated with all manner of random junk. Bottle caps and shiny pieces of glass hung on strings like homeless wind chimes, spider web dream catchers with little feathers and leaves stuck on, rocks with painted on faces were anywhere they would balance and bones hung and laid all around. When he was young he had asked the witch inside what their purpose was, she had laughed nasally and said it warded off evil. Walking up the rickety steps he was reminded why he rarely came it the crazy hag.

Alba Witch of the Wilds was in fact a wild thing. She was small and disheveled, sticks and odds and ends were woven into her hair and she was wearing the same cloak she always did which he was still sure was made of human hair. He closed the door behind him and sat in the largest chair to watch her work.

She was at a large cauldron, stirring with a stick that was almost comically taller than her, occasional adding in different ingredients from the many piles on the table beside her. And now, like then, he was fascinated to watch her, she was sure handed and smooth never once looking away from her potion but always knew exactly what was happening around her. So it didn’t surprise him when she spoke without sparing him a glance.

“Your dripping all over my home. Your a wizard Tom, act like it.”

He was indeed dripping, and a small but growing puddle was forming under him. He merely shifted his legs cross and shook his hair. The Dark Lord Voldemort was too miserable to be dry.

But Alba’s hut was warm and he could feel his clothes starting to dry anyway. The warmth started to penetrate to his skin and the for the first time in weeks he could truly feel it. He let out a small sigh as some of the stress left him like the rain water dripping down, Voldemort settled into watching Alba until she was done but soon the warmth lulled him into light sleep.

He didn’t dream, which was a welcomed reprieve from the ones that had been filling his nights. The warm and lightly lite hut was one of the few places in the world he still felt vulnerable but Alba had never lifted a finger let alone a wand to hurt him. She wasn’t a very powerful witch using only a few basic spells but she was very gifted in potions, Herbology and the like. She had amassed a great collection of knowledge in her time, saving many volumes of invaluable magics that would have been destroyed.

She was also an excellent cook, though her menu short, and he was reminded when a bowl of soup was held under his nose till the smell woke him up.

Alba handed the bowl to him then shuffled to the stool she preferred, it was almost comical watching her climb up her feet not touching the floor. When she settled her feet kicked and she started eating her own soup so he did as well. They sat in silence for a few minutes while they ate, Alba wasn’t someone to rush, she would talk when she was ready.

When they finished The Dark Lord Voldemort stood, took both of the bowls and placed them in her washing basin. For no other would he do this for and no other would ever see him be subservient, but Alba had been ancients when he met her as a boy and was ancient now.

When he sat again she seemed ready to talk.

“So I see you screwed the pooch, huh.” Alba cackled.

He rolled his eyes. “The boy and his mother didn’t escape, the papers just don’t know what happened.”

She shook her head.

“No no no, I don’t read the paper. I can see it, see it in you. You’ve made a terrible mistake.” Alba put her hand out and her walking staff moved to her then she leaned against it. “You should have stayed away from the children.”

“Then you know that something’s happened! I have to stop it undo it!” He moved to the edge of his seat. “Who did this?!”

“You did this and it cannot be undone.”

His breath caught and stuttered. He didn’t want that to be true, but Alba had never lied to him and had no reason to start. She knew a great deal more then him in many subject but no one alive knew more about soul magic then Alba.

He really was going to be sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, more Voldemort more grown ass man not know what feelings are.
> 
> As his sanity returns to him I imagine Voldemort as being just super emotionally stunted, like he treats Alba(oc) kinda like a grandmother but refuses to acknowledge that
> 
> Also yes this story will have oc’s they won’t matter much to the plot and are more for world building 
> 
> Also Alba’s hut was all Ghibli in my mind just stuffed with stuff, small and cozy


	11. Guess I’m a coward, just want to feel alright

December 1, 1981

Winter was coming.

There was a light dusting of snow on the window sill in the kitchen when Lily lifted her head off the table. She’d made it down stairs last night only to collapse in this chair and lose all energy and will to move. Sleeping at the table had only made the pains in her body worse and being out of bed just made her want to be back in it.

And oh how she dreaded her son waking up.

Harry didn’t understand, she didn’t even understand, feeling like this. He would see her and think she was better but she wasn’t. She could hear him calling for her or James all the time, then would come to her bed and try to get her up then cry and cry and cry and cry. But she wasn’t sad anymore, just numb. Numb and the horrible pain that came from her arm.

How could Death Eaters stand it? How could they do anything with this horrible pain? It hadn’t lessened at all in the month since the mark was burned on. When she had fought Death Eaters in battles they didn’t seem impaired or fighting through pain, they were in top form. So why was the mark hurting her this way? Had he done this on purpose? A way to torture her.

What did it even matter? The mark was permanent and ugly and painful.

Lily’s head hit the table with a thud.

What was the point anyway.

A knocking at the door woke her from the slight doze she was in. Then there was knocking again. Lily tipped the chair back till she could see the door, the chair dangerously on two legs holding onto the table, through the frosted window of the front door she could see the outline of a tall man.

Who would come here? Was it Voldemort? They had seen or heard from him since the night James died but who else?

With that second knock also came the sound of Harry climbing out of his crib, he waddled out of his room and went straight for the door not even looking at her.

“Dad Dad Dad.” 

His little voice brought a prickling of tears to her eyes, she reach out for him as he passed but forgot the game of balance she was playing with the chair and had to throw herself forward to avoid spilling onto the floor. By the time she’d gotten to her feet and stepped from the kitchen the front door was open.

It was the only other person she should have expected to see. Rabastan Lestrange. He was kneeling down so he was eye level with Harry, tough Harry seemed to still be looking for James which made a whole new ache blossom in her heart just as her arm started its regular cycle of pain. When Lestrange looked over at her the change in his face almost made her laugh of it weren’t for why. 

No doubt he was not expecting to see her looking even more haggard and standing in the hall in her undergarments. Her face was surely turning the colour of her hair and she could feel the hot shame of being mostly undressed in front of this stranger but it felt distant. Like everything she felt and thought since getting the mark seemed less real or something, Lily couldn’t keep ahold of most thoughts.

When Harry seemed to accept that his father was not going to appear he reached his arms out bidding to be picked up, and to her great surprise he was. Lestrange straighten back to his impressive height with her baby in his arms-

When was the last time she had held her son? Scooped him up and said she loved him?

Lestrange seemed engrossed with the string of babble coming out of Harry, who hadn’t had someone to talk to for some time.

The pit of her hollowed out heart grew.

Harry was so happy to talk and be held he didn’t care if it was a stranger, since his mother couldn’t be there for him.

The pain grew up her arm and neck into her brain, her thoughts spiraling trying to pull her back into the dip of her bed.

Give up 

Worthless 

Mudblood 

Harry would be better off if you just died

Just die just die just die justdiejustdiejustdiejustdiejustdiejustdiejustdiejustdiejustdiejuiejustdiejustdiej ustdiejustdiejustdiejustdiejustdiejustdiejustdiejustdiejustdiejustdiejustdiediesiediediediediediediesiediesiedoediediesiesiediediediediediediediediediediediediediesiedie

“How can you stand it?” Her voice was hoarse and loud in her ears and it hurt to speak. Lestrange and Harry looked at her shocked, Harry’s stories coming to an abrupt stop. “It hurts all the time so much I want to die! How can you stand it?”

She was crying. Again. Damn it, she used to be a strong and formidable woman. She fought death eaters and bigots, and now she cried in front of one while he gave her son the attention she had been unable to and she was crying again.

Lestrange put Harry on his feet and came further into the cottage, his face was not the indifferent stare she had seen before that mask crumbling to she a startling amount of concern. He moved to touch her arm when he was close enough but stopped when he looked at her mark angry and red as the day it had been burned on. Gently he touched her elbow, pain shooting where is fingers touched but it was just more of the same, his other had took her wrist and he cradled her arm as he stared at her inflamed forearm.

Harry’s small arms hugged her leg and he was babbling saying ‘mum’ over and over, between him and Lestrange she felt light headed at the contact. Lily hardly noticed being lead into the front room and sat on the comfortable couch. The bay windowsill had a growing pile of snow as the soft glow of the rising sun made the snow glitter.

She was feeling a little delirious.

Her name. 

Someone was saying her name.

Lily focused against the pain to see Lestrange kneeling in front of her his wand held above the mark, when their eyes met he cast a spell over it. The pain didn’t vanish but it lessened greatly, new tears of relief fell down her cheeks.

“The spell is only temporary, it will not last long.” His tone was new, not indifferent. “You must listen to me now so I can help you.”

Harry climbed onto the couch beside her a gentle stream of ‘mum’ continuous chant and small hand patting her other arm grounded her, she focused on Lestrange.

“The mark is more than a vow of loyalty it is also a test. If you do not believe in the Dark Lord or his cause the mark will drive you to madness. It shows all other death eaters that you are a spy so few live long enough for the mark to progress far.” He moved onto the couch her arm still in his hand, gentle “I didn’t know you had been marked. I thought your depression was only from the stealth of your husband and your new circumstances, forgive me.”

Forgive him? For what? For what he’s done as a death eater? Wasn’t she a death eater now too?

“You must accept the cause or the Dark Lord, but you can’t reject both.”

Hold up.

Her voice still felt croaky, “I’m a Muggle born how can I believe in a cause or it’s head if they want to kill people like me?” 

Lestrange would be handsome if he wasn’t so stupid.

“He didn’t kill you though did he? He spared you and your son, has built this house for you and limited the death eaters you come into contact with.” He seemed to believe his point was good even though it all hinges on Voldemort having the right to kill and hurt people. “Try to rectify some part of him or the mark will eventually kill you.”

Lily Potter closed her eyes and tried to think of something about Voldemort that wasn’t completely evil. This was clearly why they had never been able to get a spy amongst the Death Eaters and everyone they’d sent had never returned. She had dedicated her life to fighting this blight of hatred, she had already betrayed her ideals enough hasn’t see?

The pain started to rise again.

Just try!

She cleared her mind and a image began to form in her mind.

Voldemort holding Harry at the top of the stairs. A look of pure… something. Harry just as entranced. It had filled her with fear but now… now she wasn’t sure. He had made an effort to keep Harry safe, he was well groomed and fed, the house elf taking care of him since she couldn’t. There was something there she could trust right? That Voldemort was vulnerable to her son.

She could give herself to that.

Again the pain recesseds till it was gone, the mark only feeling sensitive. Her mind still felt heavy with grief and depression but it didn’t have the same weight or bite to it. 

Lily felt more herself and when she opened her eyes she pulled Harry into a hug, still crying apologizing over and over again. He laughed and patted her cheek starting to babble to Lestrange again.

Looking at him he seemed relieved that she’d found away, soft heart for a murderer. 

“Thank you.” She sniffed back her tears and got a whiff of her smell, the smell that her addled mind had ignored for a long, long time. Time to trust again. “Can you watch him for a moment, I think I need to wash up.”

“My pleasure.” He took Harry from her and she quickly rushed up the stairs and into the bathroom. 

Stripping quickly she turn the water on as high as she could stand and stepped under the spray of water. It felt heavenly. Reaching for soap she lathered it heavily all over her body and through her hair, rinsing off and repeating the process till she was sure she couldn’t smell anything but the light flower smell of the soap. She turned the water down to a more pleasant temperature then sat in the tub under the spray. For the first time since Halloween she was able to think clearly without a wave of pain and anguish coming over her.

Her husband was dead.

No one but Voldemort and a few Death Eaters knew where they were.

She had been checked out from life for several weeks, leaving Harry to cope on his own.

And she left her son with a Death Eater, even if he had saved her from the mark he was still evil.

She laid back resting her head on the edge of the tub letting her body relax under the hot spray. Her problems would still be there after her shower.

When she got out her soils clothes were gone and clean ones were left in there place. The towel was soft and must have been spelled, it took only the slightest touch to dry completely. Her hair was a frizzy mess after, but the hair brush on the counter was equally charmed and glided through her hair making it silky smooth. 

Returning down the stairs she could hear Harry still babbling and Lestrange’s soft voice making random comments to him. They were still sitting on the couch, a tray of baked treats on the table beside them. Harry’s face was covered in red jam, his hand rubbing it on Lestrange’s chest making a huge mess of the well dressed man.

Harry squealed with happiness when he saw her climbing to the floor and rushing over to her. Lily swung him up into her arms and inhaled that pure Harry smell.

“Feel better?” Lestrange asked standing and brushing crumbs from his trousers not worrying about the jam stains. 

“Yes thank you, you’ve been a great help.” She held out her hand, let no one say she was ungrateful. “Though it occurs to me, why your here?”

His hand was much bigger than hers. “The elf came to me with concerns for yours and the child’s wellbeing. I would have come sooner if I’d known.” 

“Well thank you, I’ve been so out of it I don’t even know what the date is.” Harry bounced on her hip still chatting.

“December 1st.”

That was a surprise. “It felt much longer.”

Lestrange hummed nodding his head than turned to the door. “I will not wait so long till I come again. I would be remiss in my duty if I left you completely unattended again.”

“I’m better now, we don’t need attending.” She said frowning. Arse. 

The look he gave her was a little pitying, “The mark fed off feelings that were already there. You need to work through your feelings of grief and depression, and it would be best if you are not completely isolated during this time”

He gave Harry a significant look, reminding her that she had left him to the care of house elves. It was cruel but justified.

Lestrange moved back toward them, his hand warm on her shoulder.

“I don’t mean to shame you, only impart the importants of excepting help.” He said as he squeezed her shoulder then ruffled Harry’s hair.

“You’re right,” he had been nothing but sincere since she met him she supposed. “Thank you Lestrange.”

“Call me Rabastan.”

And then he was out the door and gone.

“Well Harry,” his green eyes the same as hers were bright and happy, “let’s go wash you up mister. Then we can go play in the snow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What the mark was trying to kill her!? Haha anyway I was going to make this go on longer but I just didn’t want to torture her anymore and I wanted to move forward with the story.
> 
> So I’m at the end of my prewriten chapters so I might not be as regular with updates though I am going to try, but I do have a life and a job and I’m lazy by nature so we’ll see
> 
> Hope you liked! Comments are always loved!


	12. We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

I gave you my heart, but the very next day you gave it away  
December 24, 1981

Severus Snape hated Christmas.

As a child there had not been the money or joy to celebrate, later spending snowy days with Lily had made it bearable and it hadn't mattered. When they went to Hogwarts Lily always returned home for the holidays and he spent them alone in the castle, then later it wouldn’t have mattered he’d lost her completely.

These past months had been torture, really he had been tortured since he delivered that prophecy to the Dark Lord only to realize after who it ment. But since learning Lily was alive and marked and in the Dark Lord's hands he had been living a whole new torture. Christmas only highlighted all they had lost.

Staring into the fire he drank directly from the bottle.

The Dark Lord had kept him busy with brewing obscure potions for secret reasons, not giving him any chance to ask about seeing Lily. Dumbledore had been instant on him keeping his place and not rocking the boat as it were. Trapped between two masters he could make no move to help Lily.

The Order was still trying to find a way to get their precious saviour back, they only cared about the boy.

He couldn’t stop the sneer from coming every time he thought of James Potter’s offspring, the great hero that had doomed the woman he loved to a life of torture. Tears welled when he thought of the torture filled Christmas she would be having. Little more than a play thing for the Dark Lord he was sure.

It was nearing midnight when he finished off the bottle and dragged himself to bed, miserable. He couldn’t even try to pretend to be happy and had refused Narcissa’s invitation to spend Christmas with them at Malfoy Manor. 

Spending time with their happy sounded like torture.

 

Christmas, if only in my dreams  
December 25, 1981

Smile and make the best of it.

Smile and open presents with Harry, eat Christmas cookies and play in the snow and smile. Most important, smile.

The weeks since “fixing” her mark had been easier, but not easy. They were exhausting and painful in a different and horrible way. Harry seemed happy, he was talking lots and playing but if she was quiet for to long he would get anxious. Most nights she woke to him crying and he spent the rest of the night with her. Lily had moved his bedroom to the second floor so they were closer.

Slipping out of bed she pulled a house coat on and tiptoed around the bed so she was closer to Harry. She pulled the blankets away and gently rolled him on to his back, lightly she walked her fingers over his tummy giving him little tickles.

“Harry, Harry wake up.” Her fingers moved over his face back to tickle his tummy. “Harry it’s Christmas. Wake up.”

His little face scrunched up and he stretched full body then smiled up at her reaching out his arms. 

“Mum Mum Mum.”

“Come on baby boy, let’s go see what we have for presents.” Lily said pulling him up and they headed down stairs. “Happy Christmas Harry.”

The tree was covered in slowing blinking and revolving lights that changed colours as they went around the tree, Harry’s eyes filled with wonder and he reached to grab them but they only faded back to the tree. Bianca had climbed into the branches and knocked a few to the ground in the night, now she batted them around the living room. Under the tree were presents wrapped in shiny paper.

Rabastan come to the house a few days before with several gifts she had asked the house elf to buy, he said they all needed to be inspected first, but they were undamaged and he helped her wrap them, teaching her a new spell. It was silly, it made the paper gradually change colour and gave it its shine, very silly but it made her smile and Harry and like seeing them after. Rabastan had come a few times to check on them, not trusting her or the elf’s judgement, and Harry was happy to see him each time. He showed him simple magic tricks and coloured with muggle crayons.

His easy presence both put her at easy and hurt her with the implications. 

Smile, it’s Christmas.

Harry was already deep in the pile pulling out a present when she sat beside him on the ground, Lily frowned, this one's paper was different from the others. It was wrapped in plain brown paper and had definitely not been there last night. But Harry was already ripping into it and pulling out a beautiful blanket from the box.

It was a dark green with a white forest embroidered and little white forest animals that were charmed to move between the trees. It was incredibly soft and Harry smushed his face into it rubbing it back and forth. While he did that she discreetly cast a detection spell. There were many spells on the blanket, some that were just to keep it soft and clean and of course the moving animals, but there were also spells to help sleep and soothe. The more alarming thing was the blanket was flame retardant, seemingly indestructible, and could block or nullify most curses and spells, it was as protective as a blanket could be.

Who would have sent it?

She checked the box for a tag but only found one with Harry’s name on it. Who even knew they were here? Rabastan wouldn’t have hidden that he’d given it and she’d like to think he’d ask permission from her first, he had in the past when he interacted with Harry.

A special blanket to keep her son safe.

Really the only person it could be was Voldemort.

But why? Was the strange connection really that strong?

She thought about taking the blanket away but Harry was already situated on top and grabbing more presents. New toys and clothes covered its surface, his little hands stopping to rub its smooth fabric between gifts. Lily decided to put it out of her head for now and just do Christmas.

There were a few gifts for her, the elf had some books and clothes out and at the bottom of the pile under everything else was a last package. This one was also different then the others and it made her heart clench. This one was simple put quite ugly, obviously wrapped by hand with wrapping paper from Harry’s first birthday. The tag had her name on it.

Love James.

She put it aside.

Smile Lily, smile.

 

Jingle bells jingle bells  
The day with the tree and the presents 

This may be the best day of Harry’s life.

There were presents and cookies and Mumma’s helped him put ribbons on Bianca and they had napped in the perfect blanket. The wrinkle man made a big feast that they ate on the floor by the tree and Mumma’s made dancing fairies and unicorns and puppies and kitties and she sang songs and read him stories and played with his toys and and and and and it was wonderful.

Mumma’s was almost all better from the sad sick, Harry worried she’d get sad sick bad again but she hadn’t yet. She still cried but so did Harry. And now Rababa came to see them, he was nice and he was fun.

Still no Daddy though. 

Harry didn’t know where he went or why he didn’t come back but he was sure that soon Daddy would come back.

Mumma’s and him took a bath together and splashed all over getting everything really wet, then she wrapped him up in a big fluffy bath blanket and got all the water off. His hair stuck all up and Mum laughed at him giving lots of kisses. She put him in new sleep clothes and laid him down with his new perfect blanket. He snuggled in and yawned.

Mumma’s turned off the light as she went to her room. He listened to her shut the door and could hear her softly cry. She must not know where Daddy is either.

Harry pulled the perfect blanket tighter to his chest and breathed in the smell of the sad man’s magic. He had felt it at night a few times and being surrounded by if made him feel very safe.

Mumma’s was still sad sick, and he was still sad too but everything would be better.

Harry was sure there were more best days to come.

 

A white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know  
December 26, 1981

The fireplace was the only light.

It warmed them as they both silently looked into the flames. The past months had been hard, between the pain of losing friends avoiding the Order and Sirius budding alcoholism, they had barely been able to address the issues between them.

They had basically run away from everything, after the funeral Dumbledore had tried to politely guilt Remus into returning to his mission but there was no going back was there? Instead they had retreated into the muggle world found an empty cabin and were really squatting. They weren’t really talking either. Mostly they just existed together.

But now the silence was filled with tension.

Two presents had appeared on the mantle this morning and they hadn’t been able to open them. The paper was the same from Harry’s birthday and was done in James usual flare of not really understanding how tape works and flinging with a more is more approach. They had learned at the funeral that Lily and Harry hadn’t escaped as they had hoped so how had the presents come to them?

Finally Remus stood and with shaking hands grabbed the present addressed to   
him then after a moment's hesitation he grabbed the other dropping it into Sirius’s lap. Sitting together again they both started to peel away the tape and paper. In the boxes were carved wooden animals, a wolf and dog respectively, and a note.

Remus graves his note and started to read it aloud.

“To my dearest friends. I hope that this gift finds you well, though more I hope it finds us all together. In this gift you will find a carved animal that I carved and spelled myself.”

Remus stopes and took the wolf from the box and looked over to see Sirius do the same.

“Though these are a gift for you there actually a toy for Harry. When next we are all together we will put the animals together, they fit like a puzzle and they are charmed to come to life and play and move.”

Sirius lifted the dog toward Remus and he could see that they did fit, in his mind he could see all of their animals fitting together. A little family of deer, his wolf, Sirius’s dog and… a spot for Peters rat.

“I miss the easy days of school but I don’t regret where my life has led me. Hope to see you all some time this Christmas and hope again that you are well. Happy Christmas, love James.”

Sirius’s note said the same. He stood up and dusted his trousers off, it was silent again between them only the crack of the fire. Sirius looked at Remus and held out a hand to help him up off the ground, which he took.

“It’s time.”

 

Auld Lang syne  
December 31, 1981

The year was not ending how he had thought it would. 

How he had planned it would. Everything had been so up ended since Halloween, not just his plans but his life as well.

Alba had been no help.

Or she hadn’t been the help he had wanted. So many unanswered questions and many more he hadn’t knowto ask. She was sure he had been cursed with insanity at some point and had broken the curse… somehow… she had given him a potion to add to his bath for the next few months but all it seemed to do was make bubbles.

He suspected she was having a laugh.

“Prophecy! Peh!” She has said and spat on the floor, “what good is prophecy? I make prophecy everyday no one ruin years of planning for my prophecy.”

Under his breath he muttered how no one cared about her, and she’d smacked him with her spoon.

“Prophecy and destiny, not the same.” She slipped from her stool and started grabbing different vials of potion. “But destiny is always in flux and can be fucked over by stupid boys worried about babies.” 

Her eyes were narrowed in a glare at him.

“You have a great destiny. You will shape the world.” Alba started mixing the vials together.

Shape the world.

But there was still no way of knowing how or in what way. Leaving Alba’s hut with her parting advice left him both ready to move forward and uncertain of his place.

“Leave the boys where they are. Only one is important but right now they do not matter. They will still be there when you are Lord of the Isles.”

But just pushing them from his mind was proving harder than anticipated.

Not only had he given a gift to Harry Potter he had crafted it himself, the blanket would keep him safe… and happy. After the report from Rabastan he had been… concerned. That Lily Potter would be negatively affected by the Dark Mark had honestly slipped his mind, there was so much else swirling in his brain that he hadn’t thought about her much, only her son. Making the blanket was all he could do to stop himself from sweeping in to- what father the boy himself? As if he could, it would probably just be worse for him.

Though his mother did seem to be doing better according to Rabastan, she had found some way to connect with the mark and it wasn’t trying to kill her anymore. That was good, made things easier.

Or it would if not for what had appeared on his desk today and sent him into a tailspin spin.

On his desk were several brightly coloured pictures made by Harry Potter. They had arrived with a damn bow on top and were no doubt meant to be a birthday present. Some were paintings and others made with wax crayon, completely unintelligent scribbles and had prints. A useless gift.

The Dark Lord Voldemort picked one of the drawings up and put it underneath the papers in his desk drawer then gathered up the rest and threw them in the fire. Alba was right, as always, stay on track.

This really wasn’t where he expected to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait but this chapter was really hard to write! Christmas in May is hard to get into.
> 
> I also had to be cautious because I haven’t decided what to do with Snape, I’m not a Snape fan so I’m not sure if I want to leave him in the dust as a douchie friend zoned nice guy or give him some redemption. Still not sure, your welcome to give your opinion on what I should do.


	13. I’m throwing up in an alley but man you should have seen him

February 3, 1982

Another dead end.

Sirius Black was living up to his family name. With every dark spell and person he hurt for information he felt more and more like a Black. They were bad people, death eaters or supporters and so far he hadn't killed any of them but it didn't change the way he felt after. And he was no closer to finding Lily and Harry then he was a month ago.

Holding the gift James had made for him in a cold cabin in the woods aching for a drink had been the kick in the ass he had needed to move forward. Remus had been surprised but pleased with his resolve and had reached out to the dark contacts he had made. They'd found a small apartment in muggle London to use as a base and place to crash.

His mouth tasted sour as he stumbled on to the street, the muddy snow camouflaging the blood on his boots. He hadn't thrown up in awhile, but it wasn't getting easier. Good, it wasn't supposed to right?

"Fancy meeting yeh here Mr. Black."

There was a man standing in front of him, wizard, looking just muggle enough as to not draw attention. He flashed a badge from the inside of his coat, an auror. Behind him Sirius could see another one a few meters away and a quick check over his shoulder revealed another two looking casual and uninterested. Hands grabbed his arm and proper him up straight.

"Let me help yeh now." The leader said pulling his arm over his shoulder, the two from behind falling into step with them as they started walking down the street, their bodies lose and relaxed the group looking like friends out for a pint. "We been cleaning up your messes yeh know. Got some people wantin to talk to yeh."

They lead him away from the crowded street and he noticed they were missing one, one of the men had stayed behind to 'clean up' his latest victim. No doubt they were taking him to the ministry. 

No sooner had he thought it they were being pulled through that magic straw through space and appearing in an interrogation room. He was plopped into a chair and the three men exited. They would make him wait, try and make him sweaty and nervous. 

Bastards.

He didn’t have time for this. Remus would be waiting for him, anxiety building till he was a wreck. It had happened before, when one of them had got a lucky shot off on him. He been bleeding in an alley for several hours before he finally came to his senses and apperated home. Remus had been quietly furious, the rift between them still there and gaping, and had sat on the cold balcony for most of the night after patching him up.

Sighing he dropped his head to the table with a dull thud. He didn't know how to fix things with Remus, what had once been a deep friendship and budding romance was cold. Or at least he had thought there was more to them, like something they almost did they almost acknowledged but now they were broken. All they had was finding Lily and Harry.

Except he couldn't find them!

The door opened, his interrogators ready to start. They were both men, older than him, one was balding and grey while the other was younger just starting to show his age. The older one sat across from him while the other stood, and dropped a file on the table between them.

"You've been busy Mr. Black. We have a dozen victims here all beat tuh shit, drenched in dark magic." Baldy flipped open the file, two pictures sat like before and after shots of one of the first men he had cornered. Martly 'the Bite' Sunderler, a thrift and a scumbag who regularly beat people half to death then took a literal bite out of them as a souvenir, he wasn't sorry for the kneecaps he shattered or the teeth he removed. "Of course then we look at these wizards and find you've been doing our job for us. Puts us in a bad position you see. The ministry can't have people running around doing dark magic and takin the law into their own hands."

This wasn't exactly the approach Sirius had been expecting, but… he never did learn to shut his mouth.

"Isn't the Order of the Phoenix constantly taking the law into their own hands?"

Crowsfeet raised an eyebrow at him. He dropped his own file on the table, this one with his name on it.

"Aren't you a member of this 'secret' group?"

And of course that shut his mouth.

His fists clenched on the table. Dumbledore's actions after James' death had enraged him. His disregard for Remus and his judgement on them all as if he had done shit to protect them himself.

"Or no not anymore right? Your best friend dies and we've only your word that you weren't really his secret keeper even though that's what everyone else in 'the know' thought."

He ground his teeth together. "And you what don't believe me? Think I'm a Death Eater? Fuck you."

Crowsfeet put his hands up. "I'll admit that's were our first thought went. But your actions and the fact we still haven't found a trace of Peter Pettagrew leads us to be at least interested in your side of things."

His nails cut into his palms thinking about that rat.

"I suppose you want me to stop going after Death Eaters then." It would put his search back months if he had to worry about aurror's showing up all the time.

"Hmm you could say that I suppose." He opened the file with his name on it and turned it toward him "Or Mr.Black you could sign right there and we get you a badge for hunting down Death Eaters."

Ministry forms filled out applying him to join the Aurror Corps. He tentatively unclenched his hands and reached out for them, once he had filled out these forms with James before deciding there were to many rules and regulations… or that's what he had told them. Remus had no prospects after school and he had wanted to stay with him. Shit comes full circle.

"Listen as far as I'm concerned we have two criminal groups operating in our country right now. Dumbledore's little club of fanatics is no different in my book, he wants to control the wizarding world as much as You Know Who just in a different way. But he's still got his own agendas. The Death Eaters are just a bunch of murderers so no issue there." Crowsfeet shared a look with Balding before pulling his wand out of his robes and conjuring a quill. "So just sign the damn paper and put yourself on the right side of the law."

The quill was passed to him and he held it above the dotted line.

The pros and cons.

Pros, the ministry would have more information and informants, he wouldn't be alone out there he'd have back up that would make Remus feel better, he'd get a fucking paycheck for hunting down Death Eaters. Cons, they may not like his methods, people on his back, it could put Remus in danger if they found out about his condition.

Of course there was the unsaid condition. If he said no and didn't sign they were going to arrest him for real. They didn't want rouge wizards working outside the law that was clear.

The quills tip scratched across the paper as he signed his name. When he finishes the contract rolls itself up and flies out the now open door. The balding man stands and reached into his robes pulling out a badge and tossing it to him.

"You're a aurror now son. We'll be seein you here Monday mornin."

Crowsfeet nods his head and follows him out of the room, they leave the door open. He sat staring at the door for a few minutes collecting his thoughts. A clock somewhere chimed loudly, he finally got up and left the room to go look at the time. It was so late it was early. Remus would be beside himself with worry.

Sirius broke into a run to the exit and grabbed a handful of floo powder at the first fireplace flooing to the closet connection to their apartment and running the rest of the way. When he burst threw the door Remus was sitting on the couch, startled he rushed forward. They met in the middle hands grabbing at his coat over and over, they both started crying so Sirius let himself wrap his arms around Remus. They dropped to the ground and he could hear Remus softly chewing him out. 

Telling him how worried he was and how much he hated him, loved him, forgave him and was sorry, wished they’d never met and wished he’d never leave again. His own words were mixing in till they were both incomprehensible.

The sun was shining high through the window when they finally calmed and moved to the couch. In a hoarse voice Sirius told Remus what had happened, the man he had beaten, getting arrested and then hired. He accepted it with a quiet 'okay'.

It felt like a release, like they were finally ready to move on to what comes next.

Like they finally have a good lead.


	14. Peek-a-boo!

Bunches and bunches of days

 

Something was very very wrong.

Harry was sure his daddy had been gone for far to long, and only Rababa came to visit him and Mumma now. There were others weren’t there? Mumma never talked about Daddy and she was still sad. Did she miss Daddy too? Does Mumma know where Daddy is?

Maybe Daddy was lost somewhere waiting for Harry to find him. Yes that must have been it. Harry had waited for so long for Daddy to come, now it was time to go find Daddy. 

Mumma was upstairs and Dobby the wrinkle man was making lunch. Harry could ask Mumma for help but she was still getting better from being sad sick so he’d have to do this on his own. He could do it, Daddy said he was very brave.

Harry grabbed his warm boots from the closet and pulled one of Mumma’s coats off the hanger cause his was too high up. Getting his boots and the coat on he went to the door, tripping a bit on the way. Stand on his tip toes he tried to reach the handle but couldn’t. 

Little tears came to his eyes. He had to find Daddy so they could be happy again!

The handle started to turn and Harry fell back onto his bum as the door creaked open. Harry's magic was very impressedive Daddy said, but no time to waste, he was on a mission. 

It was so cold, his hands and ears started turning red really quick. He forgot his hat and mittens but had no time to turn back. The snow was piled high on the sides of the path and it was super shinny and made his eyes water then his cheeks sting. Big fat flakes fell to the ground like feathers but disappeared when they landed on the path. Harry's little legs had a hard time walking in Mummas big coat and kept having to rub at his eyes but he slowly was making his way down the path.

Mumma never came this way. When they played outside it was always in the back with the big ice and forest. Only Raba came up and down the path and at the end was a big bush that stretched as far as Harry could see both ways when he'd looked at it from the window. Inside the bush hadn't seemed so far but Harry was short of breath, big puffs came from is mouth that he could see. Mumma and him had been dragons the last time they played in the yard but this wasn't as fun.

He wanted to go back. He wanted to cry. He wanted Mumma. He wanted Daddy. He wanted a bottle.

But like magic he could see the gate! He was almost there! Harry ran to the gate forgetting about the cold… and Mumma's coat, tripping right at the end of the path.

"What's this now?" Harry heard a man's voice and a break as the gate opened. "Making a break for it are you?"

Hands lifted him back to his feet and Harry saw that there were two men standing at the gate that Harry had never seen before. They wore black robes but their faces were covered by masks. Did they knew where Daddy was? Harry lifted his arms up to be picked up and after a moment one of them did and Harry was suddenly warm. He pushed has cold nose into the man's shoulder and rubbed his face in warming his cheeks.

"Not much of a plan. It's far too cold for you to be out here, where's that mudblood mother of yours?" The man was carrying him back to the house. Harry tried to tell him about his mission and making Mumma happy again but the man kept walking. 

Harry huffed no one understood him.

Mumma came running out before they made it to the door though. She pulled him to her warm chest quick and sounded angry but Harry felt tired. He had worked so hard but hadn't found Daddy and he was hungry and he wanted to cry.

He didn't really notice when Mumma took him inside or took off his boots and the coat. He was in his crib with his perfect blanket wrapped around him and his eyes were heavy as he got all warm. The light turned off and Mumma closed the door behind her. Maybe the sad man knew where Daddy was.

Next time he saw him he would ask.


End file.
